d in grey mists and the peasants have
gone from the fields. The path down the mountain-side is empty,
except for the men with the great umbrella hats and capes of straw,
bringing the vegetables to the monastery below. The old abbot of the
monastery is in great trouble. Some men have come and wish to
erect long poles with wires on them. It is feared it will interrupt the
feng-shui of the temple, the good spirits of the air cannot pass, and
will rest upon these ugly poles instead of coming to the temple
rooftree. The abbot has wailed and gone to the magistrate; but he will
not interfere, as the men have many tens of thousands of sycee and
quite likely will work their will.

[Illustration: Mylady05.]

Such foolish letters as I write thee! They are filled with the little life
that passes within the women's courtyard. It is all the life I know. My
world is bounded by these walls, and I ask no more.

I am thy loving wife.

7
My Dear One,
All thy women-folk have been shopping! A most unheard-of event for
us. We have Li-ti to thank for this great pleasure, because, but for her,
the merchants would have brought their goods to the courtyard for us
to make our choice. Li-ti would not hear of that; she wanted to see the
city, and she wanted to finger the pretty goods within the shops. She
knew exactly what she wished, and life was made uncomfortable for
us all until thy Mother ordered the chairs and we went into the city.
We were a long procession. First, the August One with her four-bearer
chair; then your most humble wife, who has only two bearers-- as yet;
then Li-ti; and after her Mah-li, followed by the chairs of the servants
who came to carry back our purchases.

It was most exciting for us all, as we go rarely within the city gate. It
was market day and the streets were made more narrow by the
baskets of fish and vegetables which lined the way. The flat stones of
the pavements were slippery and it seemed our bearers could not find
a way amongst the crowd of riders on horses and small donkeys, the
coolies with their buckets of hot water swinging from their shoulders,
the sweetmeat sellers, the men with bundles, and the women with
small baskets. They all stepped to one side at the sound of the Ah-yo
of our leader, except a band of coolies carrying the monstrous trunk of
a pine-tree, chanting as they swung the mast between them, and
keeping step with the chant. It seemed a solemn dirge, as if some
great were being car